Wednesday, December 31, 2003

Drugged, duped, diced - But giving it ALL in 2004!
Here on the last day of 2003 I wish all readers a Happy New Year!
- And remember folks: If you should come across any unexploded fireworks you are to dump them immediately into letterboxes belonging to people you hate.

Saturday, December 27, 2003

"Toto, something tells me we ain´t in Kansas no more..."
Didn´t have the time to wish the readers of this blog a merry etc, but here it is etc.
A usual Christmas presented an abundance of unhealthy, but tasty, food as well as pompous television performances by the most worn out has beens of the pop circuit - And a few pleasant surprises:
The Wizard of Oz - I´ve never seen this 1939 classic in full and not only did it catapult Judy Garland into her troublesome stardom but it also contains a wealth of hidden meaning:
At one point the scarecrow says "And some people do an awfull lot of talking without using their head at all..." it´s 1939 folks, do we know of a big mouth back in those days?...
Dorothy and her three palls set out to reach "The Emerald City" where the great wizard of Oz lives, but The Wicked Witch of the West (...) creates a huge field of poppies outside the city and the poppies send them to sleep so they can´t reach the city - we all know what comes out of certain poppies that sends people to sleep so they can´t reach their dreams, don´t we?
Second nice surprise was seeing Gladiator for the third time. I suppose much can be said - especially here in the worlds best wellfare state and the home of the famous film director Lars VW-Van-to-Nepal- Trier about the strenght and honour morale of the film and its level of historical correctnes, but the opening scene with Maximus´walking through a field of crops with his hand gently caressing the wheat strands is a favourite film moment.

Monday, December 22, 2003

Cheap housing - expensive learning.
Interesting weblog by an architect (?) about low-cost houses. At the bottom of the page you wil see he has also discovered the works of Danish art, design and social terrorism group R98
- sorry my mind wandered off there and I misspelled: N55
Don´t wait up, honey.
More and more Danish men visit prostitutes. The latest explanation is this : These men have been sexually abused in their childhood and that´s why they have the completely perverted and unnatural desire to go and have brief self-gratifying sexual intercouse without the use of bestselling books, massage oils, or soothing music by Lis Sorensen.
Of course these sick pervy bastards should be burned at the stakes - don´t they realise that men are not to have sexual desires? that´s what got women pregnant all the time and enslaved them for milleniums!
Cut it off I say. A man with sexual desires that can be satisfied without the aid of a 80.000 DKR wedding, a 15.000 DKR wedding dress and a 1.000.000 DKR apartment must simply be suffering from a severe mental disease.

Monday, December 15, 2003

Aviation 100 years
This blog will of course take part in the general celebration of 100 years of powered flight. As always we cater to the nerdy who also have a touch of a childish and politically un-correct fascination for The Third Reich.
Ignored in some of the programmes shown on TV about the anniversary (remember: The Krauts didn´t go to Iraq...) the German-made Messerschmith Me 262 was the worlds first operational jet fighter and marked the true beginning of the jet age as this was an aerolane in daily use from the Autumn of 1944 - mainly against allied bomber formations - and not an experimental plane or testbed.
A group of American airplane enthusiasts have spent the last 4-5 years building a replica Me 262 from scratch, with the aim to make it airborne! And about a year ago they actually succeeded:

The Legend flies Again

Friday, December 12, 2003

Ole´ NSOP participant Hans Larsen goes online with
- well, why not add a full list:

Jens Christoffersen:
Hans Larsen:
Lennard Grahn:

I bought some months ago, maybe it´s time to get it up and running.

Wednesday, December 10, 2003

R.I.P Johnny "Bulder" Nielsen 1941-2003
My uncle Johnny is to be buried today. In his younger years he was the Danish national champion of wrestling - both as a junior and senior wrestler - and I remember being very impressed as a child by two full boards of medals he´d won for wrestling hung at my aunts and his home. He also participated in the 1968 summer Olympics in Mexico.

Flags out, gents.
Ever wondered if you were Anal retentive? - Find out here :

Tuesday, December 09, 2003

Buttons and bows.
Fourty three year old transvestite Grayson "Claire" Perry wins the prestigious Turner Art Award - for his pottery!

Monday, December 08, 2003

Funny thing about art academies - and I went to one, Royal and all: If you want to make art you should stay away from them, but if you want to become an artist you should not.

Friday, December 05, 2003

Found this on :
surfing wireless
Stangely it didn´t make me mad at all instead I actually thought it was funny - I must have improved as a persion.
A: Hello
B: Yes...
A: I can´t make my computer print!
B: Er, try to go to bla, bla, bla, MENU, bla, bla, bla and then, ba, bla ,bla (B is now trying to imagine the interface of an OS he´s not using at the moment, while on his number three job- bloodvessels in his brain are cheerfully leaping into burn-out land by the millions)
A: I´ve tried that, it doesn´t work!
B: Well, er, uhm, then try to, bla, bla, bla, and turn on, bla, bla, bla
A: There is nothing happening!
B: Hmmm this really IS strange, I mean if you have connected the printer with it´s cables and you have..
A: I have to connect the printer to the computer first?
B: To print? - yes....
A: Oh.

Thursday, December 04, 2003


Ever needed to convert from Arabic numbers to Roman numbers? - or the other way round? - Well why don´t you just leap right over to and start converting those numbers!
Yes, Arabs invented the numeral system we are using today -and they also came up with the bright idea of the "zero" - a symbol for the value of nothing. Guess we wouldn´t have had computers without that discovery...

Tuesday, December 02, 2003

New York, New York.

Snatched off the pages of NSOP: The City of New York is planning to name a street after Joey Ramone
I´ll remember that the next time the left wing in Denmark lashes out on the US.

(yes I know it´s not the same people doing this who are running the oil companys or MacDonalds, but how many cultures on this planet have room for both?)

Sunday, November 30, 2003

Life at the party.

Friday I actually did some VJ´ing to celebrate Morten who turned forty (he´s the other half of that crusty team of multimedia-artists Flottenheimer) and Saturday I went with b9 to a Distortion party at Luftkastellet.
It was fun, fun, fun - the people at Morten´s party are always fun to be with, but a really big hand goes to ClauS for the inspired revival of that ™ of the truly cheesy DJ : Making announcements over the mic... - hilarious!
The Distortion party had a polka band from Greenland playing (!) and the Danish Music Award Winners from Ingen Frygt had created a zany video and special party hats in the style of The Smurfs (...)

Well, as they say: "All work and no play" and remember what happened to Jack Nicholson!

Wednesday, November 26, 2003

Well said. (but in Danish only)

Artist Ulrik Crone talks about art, the 80´s, his recent paintings, and the new Danish government.

(turns out that what I´m getting from blogging he used to get from making cartoons : Instant and direct communication with the public - the ten people a day reading this blog is not exactly "the public" I hear you say? - try showing at an independent gallery, you´d be happy to have ten visitors a week!)

Tuesday, November 25, 2003

Picture pretty.
Picture posting on this blog is no problem I found out, so let´s celebrate with these nice private "shots" (giggle) of some Danes who volunteered to join their brothers-in-arms and fight in foreign lands against a threath to our culture and democracy.
(I bet that skull belonged to some nasty commie commissar who had the audasity to shoot at the invading liberators)

And on an unrelated note: Danish TV-series Nikolai and Julie won an Emmy last night.

It´s in the sauce.

Well - I´ve decided upon a more conservative look for this blog.
It hurts your eyes to look at subtle purples and flaming pinks in the long run - and this blog is ALL about reading!
(my new template for posts - yummie!)

Monday, November 24, 2003

To those of you who are not blind and disabled and in a nursing home and has this blog read to you by a nurse : There has been a change in the layout:
The comments function is gone
- why? - Because I don´t like people who talk back!
The colours have changed
-why? - Because I did switch to another dealer...
It´s not tha same old Don´t ask me...
-why? - It´s all part of a new media strategy aimed at generating up to 25.000 visitors per fiscal year.

Don´t Ask Me I only Work Here
- Puts the dog back into dog breath...

Sunday, November 23, 2003

At the dawn of time.
And come yuletide he would return once more to the almost mythological world of his childhood by visiting his ageing parents for Christmas. He would take long walks and visit his old school where he had learned the facts of life in the form of the other kids. And learned time and time again that no kid is an island. Unfortunately.
He would pass by the football grounds where he failed to become a great sportsman - grandpa had been one - And by doing so he forever forfeited his chances of becoming a part of the proto-fascist world of team sport camaraderie. Oh.
Briefly he would cast a look at the building where he went to his first disco and heard "it’s my party (and I cry if I want to)" - the 80´s version featuring Barbara Gaskin. A big sound. And artificial too.
Later he would stroll by some of the houses of his old class-mates and wonder if they were in there, perhaps also "home" for Christmas and maybe they would accidentally meet and talk about old times .He thought. But the streets were always empty and if anyone he had ever known were inside one of those houses they stayed inside.
After about an hour of his hopeless attempts at entering a time warp he would return to his parent’s house and slide into the drowsy comfort of a fully televised Christmas.
As he later fought hard to fall asleep in his old room he would ask himself if it was in fact the black spaces between the cold white stars of the December sky that had somehow sucked the force of life out of him a thousand years ago. At the dawn of time.
As always he returned to the city replenished and with new hope.

Wednesday, November 19, 2003

Early, middle, and final years of struggle.

In fiction we are often told the ancient story of a struggle between good and evil.
In reality the struggle we find in our lives is not between the opposites of good and evil, but between strong and weak. The strong weed out the weak in order to secure the survival of the species and the weak struggle to overcome the strong - and if they succeed they have themselves become the strong.

Lennard Grahn: Fit for Fascism

- or have I been watching those documentaries about the African wildlife too much?

The Culture Kit®

Included in this box is:

-A creation myth,
-An historical vision,
-A belief system,
-And a moral landscape.

All you need to get started!

#Buy before December 1´st and get a FREE copy of the War-Pack™!

Let a thousand flowers blossom

Interesting pictures of public humiliation of "old way thinkers" during the Cultural Revolution in China (click on "smash the Old World!")
Nice and tolerant ideology with a deep respect for human beings - you´d have to be religious to do better.

Monday, November 17, 2003´ve spend a lot of time in schools, or places of education - but you are not very well qualified for the job-market - why is that?

That´s where they kept people where I grew up - you see; No wars or famines around.

Sunday, November 16, 2003

Young against old
Man against woman
Rich against poor
North against South
East against West

The world of division, the world of intolerance, the world without unity, the world of conflict.
The world at the end of the world.

Thursday, November 13, 2003

Main course: Nice-lettes in sweet sauce.

I’ve been doing a course in basic use of computers all week, and this time it was a very nice experience! Nice students, and a nice atmosphere.
Reasons to be cheerful:
Part one: My co-worker (Jeanette) took care of all the people not attending the course - meaning I could concentrate on the course and avoid stress.
Part two: It started each day just talking and showing off at the computer - make sure you get your stage-time.
Part three: Fresh remarks would buy the obnoxious student time in front of the computer: If you’re so clever - have a go at things yourself!
Part four: Only girls on the team, no time wasted measuring the length of rods or size of ego’s - open minded people!
Part four: Before the course started I had spent precious time preparing a thirty-page manual the students could read if they got bored or missed something - keep em´busy!

Now I will go home and gleam with satisfaction.

Monday, November 10, 2003 like it´s 999
Today this weblog received it´s 999´th visitor
- meaning that YOU who are reading this right now could be that magic 1000´th visitor...

(sorry, you´re not going to win a cruise in the Caribean, a car, a night out with/sex with Britney, or whatever - but thanks for playing...)

Friday, November 07, 2003

I have a rendezvous with destiny.

I have a rendezvous with destiny
Scheduled for tea with God himself
I´m signing up for special duty
-Save me some parking space in hell
I have no time to care for lovers
I have no time to care for life
I have no time for idle chit-chat
Just walk away and wish me well

I have a rendezvous with Angels
They sing a song- I play the harp
We´re having trouble with the neighbours
They don´t like singing, they don´t like art

I walk alone on empty roads
I sit and watch the stars at night
I have a rendezvouz with destiny

Don´t pity me - I´m quite allright.

Wednesday, November 05, 2003

Friday, I´m in love.
- Or at least incredibly relieved, because at 14:05 hours I can (finally) go home and relax, no stupid questions and annoying 1970´s-private-school-casualties for the next two and a half days!
The rest of the day is spent relaxing in front of the TV or maybe the computer. This day has nothing more to offer.
Saturday: I spend most of the day just doing nothing (I come from the eighties: Doing nothing is not lazyness - it is a chosen state of being) Eventually I go to the supermarket around two or three PM only to be reassured that the world has ended and I´m living in a post-nuclear dystopia inhabited by aliens. In the evening I sometimes enjoy a long walk outdoors - the world is so pleasant without a lot of annoying people around, and you will find few people outdoors on a Saturday night during winter.
Sunday is the perfect day for doing a bit of creative work just to keep up the illusion that I’m still an artist at heart and not an burned out has-been pushing forty. And sometimes I do the cleaning too.
Then comes: MONDAY! the day of returning to the cold bitch-slapping hand of society and start earning a living again!
Still... in the evening the artistic escapades of Sunday are not forgotten and I can still drift away and forget about the upcoming:
TUESDAY! - Truly a day of horror, the weekend feels further away than ever and the working week is not even half way over! A perfect day to sit in your best chair and dream of Paris in the thirties.
Wednesday: I’m cool, I’m collected, and I’m good at my job. Fuck those stupid artists, let’s do business. BusinessMan™
Thursday: Time to prepare for the next day´s teaching - and the students of today expect results! even if they don´t show up or listen or read the photo-copies I keep handing them to compensate for the things they missed because they don´t show up or listen.
I’m done! burned out! a mental case! I can’t take it any more! I must have a vacation NOW! I must get out of here!

Friday, I’m in love.

Nothing like starting your day with a hot cup of coffee and that light and tasty web-snack NSOP
- Today it has a link to a beautiful trailer for Innocense the upcoming sequel to classic manga masterpeice Ghost in The shell - Looking good!

Monday, November 03, 2003

A Google image-search with the word "Mary"
A Google image-search with the word "John"
The computers don´t work, the subways don´t work, the system don´t work, the world don´t work, some people can´t get work, some people can´t get TO work, , some people can´t work it OUT.

But I work.
work just fine.

Tuesday, October 28, 2003

- and the core of the matter is this: NOT loosing temper, but not letting myself get fucked over either...
Difficult to master but not impossible, we will see.
Kill Bill...
Saw it yesterday with the ol´NSOP team Hans and Jens, a gory -and bloody- helping of many of Tarantino´s main courses: Sexy Rock-bitches, sexy 60´s Rock n´Roll, sexy weapons (swords this time instead of guns) and of course: The terror of evil men.
As usual it's hard to decide what Tarantino is trying to do besides demonstrating a love for all things Japanese and maybe saying something about the psychology of revenge.
Food for thought: In a crucial scene the heroine has a swordfight with the (female) head of a Yakuza: The bad girl is wearing white with swasticas woven into the fabric, our heroine is in yellow - a symbolic struggle between White Supremacy Christian Culture and Buddhism? or are swasticas just common in Japanese haute couture? or is this madness and I should switch to another dealer?

And even more "Bill" : Today is Bill Gates´ birthday

Monday, October 27, 2003

Looking for trash? looking for those hatefull attacks? looking for the nasty but funny outbursts?
- go and stick it in your pipe, Pedro!
I have nothing but love for the world and a song in my heart!

Thursday, October 23, 2003

Interesting reading: History of Rap with Kurtis Blow

(Rap artists were poor kids from poor neighbourhoods too! - Who could barely afford to buy trainers, let alone turntables! If it weren't for all those poor kids where would we be?)

Wednesday, October 22, 2003

Building a parallel world.
They certainly are: De Espona 3d Models
...and me - I´m as dumb as the next guy: I thought all these weird art-girls were incredibly exiting and intrigueing, but ten years later they´ve all married lawers and doctors (steady income) or have found God or have moved back to Norway to become junior executives in their father´s business. I dreamt of meeting "Suzanne" from the Leonard Cohen song, or rock n´rollers with one foot in their graves, or "Kiki of Montmartre" instead I just met a lot of middle-class kids like myself who would go on to major in boredom from the university of Pose.
Bohemia is just another word for nothing left to abuse, all the watering holes are gone: Cheap apartments, cheap hookers, cheap drugs. And where exactly IS Bohemia™? maybe it's in London or Berlin or New York but these places have been cleaned up too.
Fundamentally I think the Scandinavian welfare system has a big problem: People live well but there is nothing to make art from: No drama, no contrasts, just a lot of well-fed children of all ages waiting for Christmas.
But who needs art anyway...I mean if you were on a sinking ship and there was only room for you and two more people in the lifeboat and you had to choose between a doctor, a policeman and an artist who would you choose? - the doctor is in, that goes without saying, but what about the policeman? he can defend you against enemies, he´s likely to be practical, he can handle stress and anxiety well, and he might even have a few good jokes about immigrants up his sleeve.
And the artist? you´ll most likely find him in a corner dodging work and complaining about his health after he ate all the food and stole your blanket.

Monday, October 20, 2003

Number of the polygons...

The cover for the latest CD by Iron Maiden seems to have been made with the extensive use of Poser - and look close and note the cute lil´ devil girl old Eddie is hanging out with...
I’m slowly becoming a conservative.
I think it's from being around artists for too long and seeing how fundamentally positive ideals of freedom, art and creativity are abused into a meaningless state where the smoothest hustler inevitably becomes the greatest artist. Art funding is merely a way for the lucky few to maintain a pleasant lifestyle while having their egos massaged by an equally meaningless troupe of cultural-workers who write for the magazines, review the exhibitions, manage the museums, throw the parties, buy the drinks, pass the drugs, rub the shoulders.
Bohemia might have started out as a rebellion against bourgeois society or a safe haven for misfits who were either too sensitive or innocent or brilliant to fit into the rat race but now it's the other way round and more like an "Amoebia" where only the lowest and most primitive life forms survive to glitter for a few months and then the audience goes back to Retro-Lunchboxes™, Japanese Wicker Baskets™, French House™, British Cooking™, American Justice™, German Medicine™ or whatever, or whoever, or whomever.
Working as a teacher doesn't help much either...most young people act like nobody ever told them to shut up and listen which means their behaviour is a strange mix of incompetence and lack of patience - if something can't be learned in twenty seconds, forget it! - time to call mom on the cell phone and have her clean it up - or better still: Have her tell the underpaid immigrant maid to do it.

Stop funding the arts - let them work for a living!
Students in schools, high schools, and universities are to keep quiert untill the end of terms! (if they need to go to the bathroom they must write a small note)
And crack down harder on crime - People who can't live by our laws can go to the electric chair and die by them!

I’ll vote for that, only problem is most conservatives support religion and I’m against that:

Stop funding religions - let them work for a living!

(and back to mono!)

Sunday, October 19, 2003

JT LeRoy is a rising star on the American scene of art and culture and the author of two bestselling autobiographical books Sarah and The Heart is Deceitfull Above All Things, these books deal with his personal problems relating to things like being dressed up as a girl by his mother when he was a child to be sold off for prostitution, and being beaten by his bible-belt (that´s what he liked to use too...) grandfather. Visit his website to read more, and he also has a blog
I feel love, on Sunday´s shoulder.

Saturday, October 18, 2003

Did you know?
- that the word "Hipster" has appeared twice during the last week on this blog? - but what exactly does "Hipster" mean? - learn for yourself : The Hipster Handbook

Scandinavian stars.
I’ve realised there are some great comedians on Swedish TV, like the two nerds from Hell Anders & Måns, and six months ago I was laughing my stained sweat pants off with Kvarteret Skatan about people living in a dreary housing project in a Swedish suburb.
The title itself is a joke on the classic social realist film by Swedish director Bo Widerberg Kvarteret Korpen -"kvarteret" means neighbourhood district and "korpen" is a raven and "skatan" a magpie.
The characters in this comedy series includes the young hipster couples who are constantly embarrassing each other at their own dinner parties (usually by displaying some quirky social inadequacy like spontaneously falling asleep at the table or telling jokes that painfully lack any traces of humour) There’s also the alcoholic woman who try to get lovers over the phone but always end up insulting them in a strong southern Swedish dialect, or the local looser couple who live in a trailer and can't decide if their love for each other - and what a mighty big love that is - is greater than the wife’s love for Jesus. For desserts there is the group of thirty-something women who try to revive their 1980´s high school dance act, or the city sophisticates who discuss the state of Sweden at the local café insisting that Thåström (big Swedish rock star from the 80´s) should be prime minister.

Most of these links are in Swedish, so what are you waiting for? Learn to speak Swedish

Wednesday, October 15, 2003

War as business.
Interesting reading about the good ole´days when the US used terrorist tactics to fight the Vietcong in Vietnam and endorsed methods from the business world to run the operation:
The Phoenix Program

We all love the good ole´days- both pro- and anti-war people, but this isn´t Saving Private Ryan or The Battle of Algiers, this is...

Tuesday, October 14, 2003

Hipster Internet portal have established themselves on Vesterbro by creating their own Art-Boutique - be prepared to find artwork matching either the colour of your favourite sushi boxes or the new skins for your Gameboy.
Art of Heart - presenting the overwhelming works of Eva Koch, Lisa Rosenmeier and Lone Hoyer - GO GIRLZ!

Monday, October 13, 2003

A brand new week starts today - anything can happen! meeting new people, taking up challenges, and weawing your part of that great and intricate tapestry called life...

Saturday, October 11, 2003

I´ve tried Gays, perversion and right-wing extremists but nothing seem to keep readers from returning to this weblog.
Fine, I will go on then...

Saw the 2003 Emmy Awards on TV - Debra Messing ("Will and Grace") won "Lead Acress in a comedy series" Go, Go, GO! (one of my favourite series)
Debra Messing alse delivered an unusually earnest and charming speech and generally there is nothing like seeing charming, talented and glamorous people glittering in front of the cameras, and really good for you if you´re trying to kick CRSPSS (Cultural Radical Scandinavian Protestant Stalinist Syndrome)

Friday, October 10, 2003

Three days ago I posted such a bitter and unfriendly comment I almost fell ashamed of myself (...) - to prove I haven´t lost my sense of humour I give you This link

(I try, and I try, and I try but I just can't seem get the last three readers of this weblog to stay away - what am I to do! , what does it take!)

Thursday, October 09, 2003

Two days ago I posted such a bitter and unfriendly comment I almost fell ashamed of myself (...) - to prove I haven´t lost my sense of humour I give you This link

(I try, and I try, and I try but I just can't seem get the last four readers of this weblog to stay away - what am I to do! , what does it take!)

Wednesday, October 08, 2003

Yesterday I posted such a bitter and unfriendly comment I almost fell ashamed of myself (...) - to prove I haven´t lost my sense of humour I give you This link
I hope that guy realises I was only being nice because I needed his help, I hope he also realises there is absolutely no need for me to be nice when we accidentally meet on the street. As a beautifull and successfull woman I get this kind of male chauvenist attention from all kinds of idiots and I have long ago decided only to give it up if it's worth while. Surely he must understand that...

I do, I finally do understand...

- you suck
(and you´re not that talented OR good looking)

Sunday, October 05, 2003

You know, I waste most of MY time surviving.

As this fine Sunday ends I realise that what I want, what I´ve always wanted, all that I´ll ever BE wanting is to sit in an old Berlin or Parisian café in late October - carrying on my person only very little money - and gaze into the eyes of my love and wanting that moment to never end. Ever.

I should stop listening to old records.

Tuesday, September 30, 2003

Ethnic cleansing - Danish style.

I've suddenly realised the master-plan of the Danish government: It's ethnic cleansing, but with laws instead of guns.
It's like this: I Denmark we don't want a lot of niggers (#That's people who did not grow up on farms in Jutland or the Southern part of Zeeland) - because they smell and confuse the elderly people who have created the welfare state. The way to awoid niggers in Denmark(#that's people who are not named "Christian Christensen" or "Lars Larsen" and drive a tractor - or a cab) is to make life so unpleasant, troublesome and difficult for them that they will eventually decide (#if it's their own decision it's an act of free will and that proves we are a free society) to leave Denmark and go somewhere else - maybe to Sweden (Swedes are also not named "Christian Chistensen" or "Lars Larsen" and that means they are pretentious and snobbish and bad people too)

Software Art.

Interesting article and many cool links to software as Art: Wankers

Saturday, September 27, 2003

He went, down, down, down...

Shopping at Iso today, when I left, three - I do mean three- jumior employees of this company jumped on a junkie who had appearently stolen something.
They really got off from this unexspected break from the pleasures of being a junior employee at a supermarket on a Saturday - blasting lines like: "didn't I TELL you not to come back!" etc.
I remember this guy - he used to work for/ hang out with some of the biker-types at one of the tattoo-shops where I live, but now he´s a junkie stealing from supermarkets.
The way he kept saying "I understand, I understand" with these three tie-wearing go-getters lying on top of him telling it to him straight.

Nothing like kicking DEFENCELESS ass - all the more fun!

(I once threathened a junkie and really wanted to kick his ass because I got sick and tired of him hanging round the garbage cans, but this was at a time in my life where I was completely balanced emotionally and without any worries at all (...) - it must have been that guy's own fault!)
Hot updates - download NOW!

At the Lennard Grahn´s Digital Beard™ library of digital images.

Monday, September 22, 2003

Thursday, September 04, 2003

Hall of fame.

I've never been a big fan of Danish "wunderkind" artist and composer Martin Hall.
But I remember hearing his first single "Avenues of Oblivion" many years ago on Danish radio and it's one of the most beautiful things I've heard (original copies of this single fetch a nice 100-150 € in today’s used record shops!)
One of the things that makes Hall interesting today is that he has always represented a sort of pure and slightly elitist "art-for-arts-sake" approach to art which puts him completely out of the increasingly irritating discussion in Denmark about whether you belong to the left-wing or not (and if you belong to the left-wing you deserve to be banned, blacklisted and deported, mainly for threatening to ban, blacklist and deport all those sweet struggling right-wing artist back in the seventies)

Wings - you could use a pair to fly away from this entire BS.
Sure, go right ahead!

I've received a book by the artist Claus Carstensen who is a former professor at the Royal Danish Academy of fine Arts (don't worry, they are given to a lot of employees so it's not because I'm being favoured now: I'm still a disgruntled worker and embittered artist). It's interesting reading and some of his observations on the art-world are really funny:

"You could see a big difference between the students coming to the Academy in the early nineties when compared to those coming to the school in the late nineties. Those from the early nineties had gone to elementary school BEFORE the Danish schools were reformed in the mid-seventies into a model I'm calling: "where do YOU think Bradford is..."

Wednesday, September 03, 2003

May the best man win (?)

Competition vs. Cooperation.

Competition is coming back in with the success of The New Right. To me Competition seems wasteful. The argument FOR competition is this: A group of people struggle to do their best by for instance preparing a proposal for a new building and in the end THE best proposal wins and is chosen. But what about the other ones? they are left unused, not because they are totally worthless pieces of work, but merely because they didn't make it to "the top". The way I see it this is an unnecessary waste. If you used cooperation instead you could combine the strengths of the various proposals and come up with a combined solution - which I believe would logically be a much better solution than just the contents of one proposal.
Only exception would be the work of a genius, but is a genius perhaps a person who has several personalities combined in one body and the ability to keep himself from going mad from this condition?

Who knows?, who cares?, who killed Cock Robin?
To blog is to live.

Tuesday, September 02, 2003

Button that collar!

Many young people are coming back to traditional values normally associated with their grandparents. Most of them value work-as-life, the family, national pride, and financial security highly and they are also increasingly embracing religion. They want strong values, and firmness.
Must be a product of super-slack hippie-parents - and this is really great for my own generation: First we have to stand in line all our lives AND take a lot of crap from their parents about how great they were, and then we have to grow old in a winner-takes-it-all society run by their obnoxious neo-liberal offspring!
"look mum and dad: I'm wearing a suit and driving a Porche, doesn't that REALLY piss you off? and yesterday I SACKED someone, and told the union representative there was nothing he could do about it - because I sacked him too! (don't worry it was just some old idiots from the eighties, you wouldn't have liked them either..)"
Don't give them any money, they'll just use it on drugs.

I went and had a talk with my bank the other day, because I needed money. As I sat there the very friendly advisor went through my assets:

Do you have a job?
Do you own a car?
Do you own your apartment?
Are you a member of a union?
Are you a member of an unemployment benefits fund?
Are you married?
Do you have children?
Do you save money for your retirement?

The next question could have been: Do you exist?

I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad, bad consumer...
(but I did get more money from the bank, and come December they'll get more of that nice fat interest they put on it - squandering makes the world go round!)

Monday, September 01, 2003

A meeting of minds.

A Clockwork Orange is my favourite movie of all time, and yesterday I realised a funny thing:
Alex - which is of course the name of the main character - is short for "Alexander" and his family name is "De Large" which might be another way of writing "The Great", likening him to Alexander the Great.
What spurred me on to this is the end scene at the hospital where the minister - who has been nameless up untill now- visits Alex and tells him that his name is Frederick, just like Frederick the Great, the famous Prusssian warrior king of the 18´th century.
This might be Kubricks way of telling us that the great men and women of history might be just as sadistic and insensitive as young Alex, and that's one of the reasons they stood out: No feelings in business.

Interesting reading: Voltaire and Frederick the Great

Tuesday, August 26, 2003

"I still say they won't make it to the parish line..."

I'm beginning to think I won't make it to X-mas. I've simply heard all the stories
- yes you want me to work with (read: for) you in your art-project, but you don't have so much money, and...
- yes I understand: you have to leave class early to go to the doctor, dentist, funeral, job interview, beach.
- Yes I will explain everything again now that you have decided to show up at 11.00 AM instead of 8.45
- yes you have some really wild ideas for an interactive website using java-scripting , live video feeds, and 3D, but you are not so technically minded and...
- No I don't mind working overtime because you dropped this disaster on my desk fifteen minutes before I could leave - I don't get paid extra anyway.

I won't make it to X-mas, not this year I'm afraid. But what am I to do? go back to cleaning? maybe working in a kindergarden again, the people there are usually nice. and the kids too. I simply can't make it to X-mas this time.
Uh-huh FASHION...

Short hair is the fashion these days. Problem is most people are also short haired on the INSIDE of their heads.

Sunday, August 24, 2003

No comment.

Very few use the "comments" function and I think that's a bit sad as I'd like some responses...
Why is that?

A: Commenting used to be the "in" thing to do amongst bloggers.
B: But now it's the "out" thing.
C: People stopped reading blogs.
D: People still read blogs but nobody reads THIS blog.
E: People DO read this blog, but nobody cares to comment on it.
F: This blog sucks
G: I suck.
H: Everything sucks.
I: The world has ended and this blog and me is the only thing left of 50.000 years of civilization.
J: The CIA is monitoring this blog and is using specially designed software to stop people from posting comments.
K: I'm paranoid.
L: The CIA is paranoid.
M: The things I write here are so perfect and brilliant that most readers feel it would be superfluous to add a comment.
N: George W. Bush told them they were not allowed to write comments.
O: The KGB told them they were not allowed to write comments.
P: The headmaster at their old school phoned and told them they were not allowed to write comments.
Q: Their moms told them they were not allowed to write comments.
R: Dick Cavett told them they were not allowed to write comments.
S: The people who read this blog are all disabled and their nurses don't know how to operate the "comments" function.
T: The people who read this blog are illiterate and don't know how to write comments.
U: The Chinese have taken over the world and banned the use of Internet; this is the last page on the Internet the special Chinese Internet-Palice hasn't intercepted yet.
V: The USA has sold the Internet to Rupert Murdoch, who has removed commenting in order to cut expenses.
W: The USA has sold the Internet to Disney in exchange for Alien technology.
X: I'm the only one reading this blog.
Y: You're the only one reading this blog.
Z: The headmaster at your old school is the only one reading this blog.
A: Your mom is the only one reading this blog.
Hostess with the mostess.
I bought a movie with Elvira at a flea market - great stuff!
Joke sample:
Elvira is about to be burned at the stakes by a group of very conservative villagers in small-town-USA.
Elvira:"I don't want you to remember me as just someone with a nice set of boobs
- I have great legs too..."
Joke sample-2:
Something drops on her head and a character asks:
"How's your head?"
Elvira: "I haven't had any complaints yet..."

You get the picture.
" There was nothing worse than a reformed drunk and a Born Again Christian..."
Charles Bukowski: Hot Water Music.

You mean like This Guy?

Thursday, August 21, 2003

What should be done, then?..
Yes, I'm talking to you over there in the corner! - Staying out of the conversation, pretending not to listen! - Let’s hear it: WHAT DO YOU THINK!

I think we should erect barracks on a remote field where railway tracks end. Good, solid, well build, railway tracks.

Great Danes.

Danes and the weather is a funny thing:
When it's winter it's so cold and dark and depressing, and long, that most Danes would think: Only thing to do is have some beers and forget about it for a while.
Then comes spring! And because the winter was so long, and dark, and cold and depressing all Danes go crazy with excitement over spring: It's sunny! - Now you can sit outdoors! - No more darkness and depression!
Only thing to do is to have some beers and celebrate the coming of spring!
Then comes summer, and it usually starts out with a lot of rain and not too much sun.
Only thing to do is to have some beers to forget about that lousy Danish summer...
Then we reach July, and suddenly there is a heat wave and this goes on for some weeks: WHEW- WHAT A SCORCHER! Says all the newspapers, and all the Danes - It's actually TOO hot now, not for normal decent people!
Only thing to do is to have some beers to keep you cold and make you forget about that terrible heat...
Then we reach autumn and everybody’s back to work again, and it starts to rain again, and the days are shorter now - and soon it will be winter again (horror of horrors!)
Only thing to do is to find a cosy corner and have some beers to forget about that terrible winter...
And then winter comes, and when it's winter it's so cold and...

Tuesday, August 19, 2003

And all because some other smart salesman made me buy an add in the yellow pages...

I did it again! - I received a call from a business selling a phone answering service
First the nice young lady informed me that she had been calling my business number for several days without being able to reach me (a lie - yesterday my answering machine was turned off by mistake, but not for several days) then she continued explaining how their service worked, a call not answered by me would automatically be redirected to one of their operators who would then inform me about the call. Then came the usual BS: A service she would definitely use herself if she had a business (and with her friendly way of talking she must be your friend, and we all like to do what our friends do, don't we?), the way I was operating now was making me loose costumers (MY GOD!!!) and if I called someone and nobody answered would I not slam down the handle and immediately call another company? (install fear into the prey and it will stop thinking rationally and run for cover = your business proposal)
But I told her I could handle the calls myself
She asked me if this was really true
I said yes
She got sarcastic and said I was really in control there, huh?
I said yes
She laughed (sarcastic again, one bonus point was lost with this customer)
And said goodbye

Kill them - with Love™!!!

(and remember: If you really need to hire people to do the most simple tasks for you, you're never going to survive as a small business - only executives can do that)
Trangsted - just outside of Aarhus, Denmark.

Preben Grundstött left the dinner table to go upstairs to his “cave” – the small room on the first floor where he was allowed to smoke his pipe, make a mess and write the books, articles, critical reviews and essays he had made a living from writing for almost thirty years.
“Where are you going, Preben?” his wife had asked him, not really paying any attention as she was sitting in the corner of their living room fully absorbed in creating some of her award winning ceramics
“I’m going up to the cave to write a critical essay about the U.S.A”, Preben said as he walked up the stairs.
He entered “the cave” and stood in front of his desk for a while untill he blew some smoke from the pipe over the typewriter on the desk. A small ritual to please “The Gods of Writing” as he would explain to visitors. He had used the same electric typewriter - "Selectric II" - since he began writing over thirty years ago. It was a gift from his late parents when he graduated from the university and although everybody he knew had pestered him for years about buying a computer there was no way he was going to do that – they had no soul, and he secretly believed that switching to a computer would destroy his talent for writing immediately – the Gods of Writing were not to be angered.
After the ceremony of blowing smoke came the next ritual: He went over to the record shelves covering most of the right hand wall and carefully chose a record: Charlie Parker, Preben had been a jazz fan since his student years and was proud to mention to visitors that he had actually discussed Charlie Parker with Ben Webster after a concert in the seventies and Webster had said Preben had a fascinating knowledge of the work of Charlie Parker. The LP was placed on the record player – Preben always bought vinyl as he utterly detested the “clinical” sound of the CD – and now he took care of the last ritual: The framed photo of his wife placed on the desktop, right next to the typewriter, was turned around to face the wall and then he could start writing. But what was he going to write? So many thoughts had been stirring in his mind for the last two years…
On September the eleventh - when the planes had hit the World Trade Center - he had provokingly proposed a toast of champagne to the group of friends visiting them while the TV stations showed the incredible pictures of the exploding aeroplanes and collapsing towers. Most of the people gathered refused; feeling it was perhaps too much: “our daughter is studying at Berkeley, what if they attack the west-coast too!” some had explained. Preben had argued that the USA had dropped bombs on defenceless civilians countless times, this was just America reaping what it had sowed, and the Islamic Mujahedeen of today were the sons of the Cuban revolution, the October Revolution and the heroes of Stalingrad, Preben always got a bit excited when he drank - which was rare- and the guests left early much to the dismay of Prebens wife.
After September the eleventh came the War in Afghanistan and now the war in Iraq but Preben had been so busy writing book rewiews, finishing the four children’s books due for publishing next month, and working as a censor at the national film school that he simply hadn’t had the time to gather his thoughts and write something about the way the USA were becoming a neo-imperialist power of the worst kind. But that’s how he felt about it! And he was from a generation that had seen it coming for years, ever since the anti-war demonstrations in the late sixties he had been at the frontline whenever there was the need for an intelligent verbal attack on American imperialism. He remenbered when he met his wife at an anti-Vietnam demonstration and he had swept her off her feet with his strong rhetoric’s and clear argumentation. In fact she had copied every word when she left home the following month and it came to a heated argument with her father who did not want her daughter to run off to the capitol to become a junkie and a communist.
Suddenly the memories came back to him: The demonstrations, the feeling of fighting for a just cause, of being together – a generation who had the vision and the power to change the face of history, to create a new world on the ruins of an old, outdated and corrupt one. And the life they had lived: The rallies, the demonstrations, the parties, the music, the drugs – though Preben had always just pretended to take them as he already then knew that he had an unusual talent with words and didn’t want to risk ruining it. And the women, ah yes the women. When his future wife showed up at his humble one room apartment and told him she had left home to live with him, he was actually a bit disturbed. He was not ready to commit himself to a relationship, and besides: when would they see each other? He was always writing: pamphlets, articles for underground newspapers and – of course: his upcoming exams. He had to have his freedom. But she understood this, she hadn’t left home to become a nice little swat at the university - now life could begin and she wanted it all and she wanted it NOW. So there were other women, always other women. That he looked at. Because in some strange way he never really came closer to them than maybe talking, sometimes in one of the groups at the university, or at the parties. Somehow he remained “true” to his future wife. If he did have sex with another girl, or later women, it was always because his wife had had an “affair” and he felt that he needed to keep some sort of balance in their relationship.
He sat there in front of the typewriter for a while puffing on his pipe, loosing himself in memories of parties, concerts, demonstrations, squatted houses, going to Morocco. Then he stopped. This was going nowhere: He needed inspiration, but he kept thinking about all those things from back then, the parties, concerts and suddenly something began to appear, yes he remembered a girl he had seen at various parties one summer, but then she disappeared and he never saw her since. She always wore a hat of some kind; it was just like Che Guevara’s – a beret. He went over to the window puffing on the pipe, trying to find a starting line for the story he knew he was about to write, one of the really good ones, an inevitable one! He felt the inspiration forming; the words were coming together – now he had it! The perfect opening!
He sat down in front of the typewriter and began typing:

She wore a raspberry beret, the kind that you find in a second hand store.

Sunday, August 17, 2003

Newspaper, cigarettes, packet of crisps – and the big rifle with the night scope, please…

Basically it’s about putting myself back together gain. I’ve spent the last ten years doing it. Ever since my relationship broke up – she wanted a family I wanted to be an artiste
She had a family.
I gave up art.
Then I was in this group of artists, and we had a gallery, and things looked fine we had a good thing going, but then it turns out this guy who’s like the guy who started it and all
is crazy.
But then there’s already exhibitions and you’ve put money into it, and more money, and they start calling from really important museums, and this guy just gets more crazy and he starts dating two girls at the same time, end they go along with it and he sets himself up like some kind of cult leader, and then you realise that in fact he IS a cult leader, and you’re in his cult, and everybody works sixteen hours a day, and it’s his name on all the contracts and leases and whatever and he acts out and he sleeps with two girls at a time and somebody’s girlfriend who’s studying to become a psychiatrist says he’s showing clear symptoms of being a psychopath,
And he is.
And you go along with it. And you betray people, and they betray you, and in the end it's ONLY ambition, and power and greed and betrayal.
And now you know how the world goes round.
Because they all came from fine families.
And you get out of it.
And you suffer from post-traumatic stress
And nobody believes THAT
And you go home to your parents because all your friends gave up on you because you spend too much time with the art-group and told them that this was really it.
And you go home to your parents and you cry a lot and you scare them because they are getting on in years and really don’t know what to say, and you’ve always been a strange kid, so maybe they’ve just run out of love.
And you go back, and you get yourself into more trouble with other people, and there's more embarrassment in front of your parents, because you’ve lost your friends because these new people are REALLY it, but these people like to do drugs.
and the drugs like to do them.
and you end up in a real white-thrash-abusive-looser-nightmare.
And you pull out of that too. And your old dad has to call people, because you can’t, and he’s steel and you love him
But you know. That’s where HE lost faith.
In you.
And you sit down and do NOTHING for three or four months, and you start seeing your friends again, and you start getting it together again, and you finish your education, and you get a job and you’re never going to make art again because you’ve lost faith in humanity, and your never going to love again because you’ve lost faith in that too. And you even start to make art again, and you've even learned, and these people are nice and it's almost coming back to you again but you can't forget. Just can't forget.
And you’re bitter.
And you’re lost
And you’re a sad old git.
And you go to work
And you go home and sit at the kitchen table and wonder where the last ten years of your life went
And you look out the window
Where it’s dark.
But you haven’t packed it in yet.
Because you still want it
Want it
Want it
Want it sooooooooooo much.


Friday, August 15, 2003

Have you tried Funoflex™? - It’s only € 9.95 a hit.

Had my first day at nr.3 job This time I've actually drawn up a plan for the entire sixteen weeks, but of course some students wanted to go off in their own directions, I told them no and they just look at you funny. I can't stand being in the classroom, all the questions, and it's always the same: I'm standing there trying to explain something and because I tell them things flat out like: "yeah, that's a flaw in the software..." they start thinking I don't know what I'm talking about. My problem is not that I don't know what I'm talking about - because I do - the problem is that usually people don't believe me because I seem insecure, and they don't know shit, so how can they know if I'm telling the truth or not? Same thing with my failure to get a drivers license - I can drive a car - but I can't convince them to give me a license. Basically I don't know how other people think and that keeps getting me in trouble because I obviously think in a different way - where's the fun in seeing someone fry in front of a majority? Not my kind of fun, but maybe you learn that from drunken dads barking at the T.V or moms bitching over coffee in the kitchen: since we're going nowhere there's ALWAYS room for some cheap thrills.

Ahoy boats man: Do we still have those firebombs below deck?

Aye Captain! - Six hundred was the last count!

Then set sails for the sub(b)ur(p)s! - Ahs feels like throwing a barbecue!

Monday, August 11, 2003

Crime and punishment.
Had an O.K start at nr.3 job, my boss made fun of the way I pronounced "Photoshop" (that's what I teach at nr.3 job) well..- I've been getting crap from every boss I ever had except two (leaders of leisure clubs for children and disabled people, maybe I should get back in that line of work)

In the immortal words of ICE-T (Copkiller) :

I've got my my headlights TURNED OFF
I've got my shutgun SAWED OFF
And I'm ready to dust a BOSS OFF

He said it about cops, but I'm beginning to think violence really IS the answer if you're the type of person who can't seem to get any respect. Only problem is you go to jail for it, but the power, the feeling, the sight of those dumb assholes shitting their pants before they have their brains blown out - mmh good! and then I'll board my command-tank and head off for the next village with my band of merry prankters - all well-armed, and looking for a GOOD time!
Ahoy boatsman: Hang them high today! I'm entertaining guests...
Aye captain!

(joking, of course - Mondays...)

Saturday, August 09, 2003

"...That's what the Lord did say, upon-a Judgement day..."

I guess one of the things that make Religion appeal to many people is the promise of a "higher justice" - a true justice above the laws of your country, the traditions of your culture etc. This is the justice of God, and this justice is always right: God sees all and he knows it was you who did all the work bringing wealth to your family and not your cousin who just dressed well and had the gift of gab, God saw it was your brother and not you who stole the apples that you got a beating for, etc, etc.
This must be extremely appealing to people living in corrupt and oppressive societies (I'm speaking of the Third World here, of course…) - Because in the end we all die - both the President and the beggar out in the street- and then God will pass judgement and we'll see who makes it to heaven.
If you couple that with a belief in the existence of an afterlife in heaven where all is bliss instead of hard work and agonies - then you've got a pretty strong offering.

Wednesday, August 06, 2003

I forgot to remember to forget and then remember again when the holidays ended.

A nice day today: I was awakened 8 am by a young female artist from my job nr.1 - this place is a video and computer workshop for artists started five years ago by the majority of my fellow classmates from the Art-academy (including my professor) - I wasn't invited back then, by the way.
She had some questions regarding some new software, I agreed to stop by before I went to my NR.2 job (pun very much intended) She called back ten minutes later to inform me that she had solved the problem herself (she must have glanced through the manual, good girl - try that next time before you wake people up) As my internet at home wasn't working I sat and relaxed for a couple of hours - no sense in going back to sleep. I then bicycled through the charming Copenhagen traffic (nobody pays attention to what other people are doing as long as they are themselves not violating any red traffic lights or are doing something they themselves feel is o.k. and not dangerous at all) When I arrived at NR.2 job (pun there, again) - The Royal Danish Art academy of bla, bla, bla, I was greeted by representatives of the special breed of White-thrash assholes that always manage to find employment as Wardens, janitors or what ever job that may suit a person with seven years of schooling. While sharing an elevator with these humble workfolk I not only had the pleasure of their sweaty odour but also enjoyed their humorous comments on the red colour of my skin- a result of spending too much time in the sun yesterday. Attempts from me at going along with the joviality were instantly thwarted and it was clear that the special hierarchy installed in the feeble minds of these two voters and fully paid up members of the welfare state did not include friendliness towards: former-students-who-now-make-money-just-sitting-on-their-arses-doing-nothing-with-those-computers-while-we-do-all-the-real-work.
As I stepped off at the fourth floor I could immediately start picking up the cigarette butts and empty beer-bottles left behind by the students, while I put the various cables back into the expensive video and computer equipment, of course removed by students who - in spite of a general lack of technical abilities - have no fear what so ever of trying out new interesting combinations between cable, port and computer (and if things don't quite fit, there' s nothing like getting a few frustrations worked out by MAKING them fit) After these routines I began helping the few student not spending this warm and sunny day getting high at Christiania or at the beach. Mainly this means explaining things like how to attach files to e-mails, and this to people who have been coming to the computer laboratory I operate for three or four years without fully grasping this intricate and complicated operation. While doing that, I quietly reminded myself to pick up a shotgun on my way home so I could blow my head off after dinner.

Tomorrow I go to have my first day after the holidays at my NR.3 job…

Friday, August 01, 2003

Sit down and relax Ahmad, it's over for today.
Sit on the bench in your cheap clothes and your cheap shoulder bag you bought at the gas station
Relax, from your low-end job that nobody else wanted
Sit down with your un cool overweight body and wait for the same public transport you work for.
Go home and shout at your considerably oppressed and overweight wife who doesn’t speak Danish so well (probably due to oppression and overweight)
She can still get a job cleaning up after people who do (despite the fact that her culture keeps her generally oppressed and overweight)
, Shout at the television, shout at your kids, pull their ears, damn the neighbours, damn the government, damn your entire family and the television. Repair the clogged toilet on Sundays and damn the janitor, and shout at your kids some more and make them laugh by squirting water on them.
Put you kids through school and give them a better life,
Not stupid immigrants like you but like the real Danes.
Zombies with money, money, money makes the world go round in a loop
Not like you, stupid, fat, ignorant, un cool and Human™
And when you die they will have to fly your body back to Pakistan, because we can’t have that sort of thing lying around in the ground

and the band played on (in their usual 1920’s style)

We need the spaaaaaaaaace
for chemical waaaaaaaaaste
It ads some taaaaaaaaaaaste
To the hellhole we build
(bam- bom)

Wednesday, July 30, 2003

Wholesome Molson
Because I'm listed in the phonebook as a business I often get phone calls from OTHER businesses or charity organisation that wants money from me. In the old days this would infuriate me and I would get really mad at the caller. The reason was probably that they usually managed to make me buy something - and that's what made me mad.
Today I just chat with them calmly, and inform them at a very early stage that I simply don't want to buy anything.
you can be nice - you can be good - you can be: A Wholesome Molson...

Saturday, July 26, 2003

In dreams, always in dreams...
I don't dream at night.
It's been this way for five or six years and I don't know how it started. Maybe it was because I used to get these nightmares and maybe some kind of safety-switch in my brain shut off the dreams to keep me from having the nightmares (in case you're wondering: No, I've stopped smoking that!)
When I tell people about this they say that I probably still have the dreams, I just don't remember them.
But there was one exception: A while back I dreamed I saw a flying eagle with it's wings spread out. The next day I learned a Space Shuttle had exploded in flight.
Now, that was wierd!

Thursday, July 24, 2003

"..Why did you stop painting?, you were quite good at it..."

they don't have a soundtrack...

Monday, July 21, 2003

(imagine the soothing sounds of an 1920s band playing in the "Hawaiian" style - lots of banjos and harmony singing...)

I'd like to beeeeee
On the Waikikeeeeee

Just you and meeeee
Down on the Waikikeeeee
Attention all readers!
Since I announced the closing of this blog my mailbox has been overloaded with mail from frustrated fans- a few samples:

Dear Mr. Grahn: For over ten years my husband has suffered from impotence, but when I began reading to him your testoterone fueled comments on modern life - the powers of his youth returned! and we are now a happy couple again
thankyou! XXXX

Mr Grahn: How can you stop this blog? in my country we do not have the freedom of speach you have in your country, we are shut out from the world of free information! For many months the only way our underground resistance group could find news of what was going on outside the borders of our oppressive and totalitarian dictatorship - was your blog! Do not silence your voice of freedom! please go on carrying your torch of knowledge forward through the darkness! and give hope to my people!
Sincerely XXXX

Dear Lennard We are class 2C from XXXX school and we just want to say that we all started crying when we learned your blog was closing down. Please go on with your blog and keep us from crying.

Mr. Grahn: Here at the institute of Media and Communications Studies at XXXX University we are alarmed by the fact that your blog stops. What are we going to tell the students already preparing exams based on your brilliant writings?! or what about your upcoming lecture on handheld physiology and the internet? in the name of Science: do NOT close your blog!

Dear Mr. Grahn: How can you stop this blog, when the time of falling cherry-blossoms has just ended and we are entering the time of the smiling face. Here at the monastry we send every day a thousand prayers in the hope that you will change your mind. You are to blog - it is so written!

Naturally this sort of response from readers gives food for thought. And my answer is this: Yes - I will think about it ...

Saturday, July 19, 2003

Goodnight Saigon
I've decided to quit blogging and this blog will close down permanently as of today.
I don't know if it's possible with, but I plan to have all content removed by the 1'st of August, and the site closed.

Well; I just can't find the time and inspiration to run this on a daily basis, and if postings are to far apart I guess this blog becomes too loose and un-interesting.
Thanks to all who stopped by, wrote a comment or what ever. Apologies to the feet I stepped on, for the mud I threw etc. and you will be able to read a full account of the whole experience in my upcoming auto-biography: "Yes, I was a thirty-something Blogger and that didn't get me laid either".
signing out, and happy blogging to your all!


Wednesday, July 16, 2003

I Kant get started...
I guess it's a classical dilemma:
What to do - you feel you don't quite fit in and you basically have two options:
-Adapt yourself and your ways to the surrounding norms and you will fit in and be accepted (hopefully...the Pavlovian approach: good doggie gets a snackie, bad doggie gets no snackie - this also leaves all the hard work to you but the basic control of your situation somewhere else)
-Go somewhere where you fit in the way you are...
(this leaves out the hard work and gives the control to you, except...)

You have to first find out what you are in order to find the right place to go!
(and then we're back to the hard work...)

-And that's the beauty of blogging: any crackpot with a modem can clog up the web with home grown philoshophy like this! yowsa, yowsa, yowsa!

Tuesday, July 15, 2003

Which way to Le station centrale, bitte.
Back from my day as a tourist in Copenhagen. It's funny how you can actually do that; be a tourist in your own city because there's plenty of things happening; I rode the subway to Amager - and spotted a middle aged crossdresser - they seem to hit the streets during the summer, I saw one last summer too - took the S-train to Noerrebro Station- that part of Copenhagen is now so ethnic it's almost like going to an arabic country - Walla, Walla - walked around Oersterbro - that's a bit like going to Paris - and so on. Bought the homeless peoples magazine from a guy with a huge sore on his forehead who wished me a good evening (it was 1 pm..) And just as I returned home it started to rain - from a cloudless sky!?. A Nice day for sure.
Alright I give up! I'm going out there: Out into the sun, out to the tourists, the drunkards, the lunatics who go crazy in the heat, the smog, the rollerscaters with perfect bodies, the 5.2 billion pairs of designer sun glasses that I can't wear because I use spectacles, the..., the... well: the girls in miniskirts...Hmm - should I bring the polaroid? no I'm not that kind of guy!
I'm bringing the handycam.

Monday, July 14, 2003

Presidents on a sinking ship:

Ford says: "What do we do?"
Bush says: "Man the lifeboats!"
Reagan says: "What lifeboats?"
Carter says: "Women first!"
Nixon says: "Screw the women!"
Clinton says: "You think we have time?"

(get a trunk load of 'em at Kelly's bar jokes)
Knock, knock...said the wurst...
Seems like nobody reads blogs anymore, or maybe it's just because they're out in the sun, or vacationing in places that don't have internet access. Either way:
(provocation, it usually works...)

Sunday, July 13, 2003

R.I.P Georges Pichard 1920-2003 (died June 7´th)

Not as well known here in Denmark (that’s the country Lars Von Trier comes from…) as artists like Milo Manara, Moebius and Varenne - Georges Pichard became a champion of the erotic comic book. Graduating from l`Ecole des Arts Appliqués in Paris in the 1940’s Georges Pichard worked for many years as a commercial illustrator and cartoonist in numerous magazines in his native France. In the sixties and seventies he collaborated with George Wolinski on the series “Paulette” which presented a Brigitte Bardot-like heroine who just couldn’t help herself from getting into situations where she repeatedly lost parts of -or all of- her clothes. Typical of Pichard’s work he also threw in a few observations about bourgeois society and Christianity and his sense of humour.
In the eighties and nineties Pichard started publishing more sinister work on the S&M-theme that is not for the faint-hearted; like the masterpiece Marie Gabrielle d´Saint-Eutrope, MCPM, The Countess in Red, and many more.
His total production of comic books is well over fifty volumes many of which are today long out of print and fetch high prices on auctions.
Little of his work is published in English, except Marie Gabrielle, his treatment of The Kama Sutra, his interpretation of Bizet’s Carmen and a few more, but his books are available in both French, Italian, Spanish and German.
A great artist, and if there is a heaven for him just read his books to see what it would probably look like…

Wednesday, July 09, 2003

"Die sprachen and die Ytzen..."
No more Danish, it takes too much time to write in both languages and besides:
Danish - ain't that something you eat?..
New York, New York...
Since I saw the Suicide concert I've had this burning desire to go to New York. And now that I've finished reading a biography about Jean Michel Basquiat this feeling has only grown stronger.
Funny though, because I went there in 1995 and I didn't like it that much. Too claustrophobic I thought, not a tree in sight between JFK Airport and the waterfront - except Central Park of course- and the only place I felt comfortable was East Village. That was a nice place though and going to Harlem was great too. In fact what impressed me the most about Harlem was the fact that music was coming at you from everywhere, from shops, cars driving by, people carrying ghetto blasters etc. And not just any music: this was hardcore political rap-music talking about black consciousness, black history etc. etc. During our visit my party and I went to a ladies clothes shop to look at some shoes (Harlem is a heaven for the shoe buyer, and they come relatively cheap too) It was the kind of shop you usually find in small towns all over the world, they sold ladies clothes for all ages from 0 to 103 and even in this shop the radio was turned up loud with a program telling the story of The Black Panther Party. Food for thought while we strolled down Malcolm X Boulevard carefully avoiding eye contact with the bypassing Ice-T look-alikes. Still there was nothing hostile about going to Harlem, and after we saw some white people who apparently lived there we relaxed and stayed there for a while, but Harlem will make one thing clear to you: this is the black neighbourhood. Off course I thought about going to The Bronx as well, given the stories about this really hard part of town, but after reading an official New York Bus planner which marked off safe places to get off in The Bronx, and hearing in the news that two 10-year olds were accidentally shot by gunmen riding BMX-bikes I decided I'd had my walk on the wild side. I was only there for five days and during that time, there was one more shootout - a bank robbery that went wrong-, a plane crash, and the New York fish market burned down - Mob-involvement strongly suspected...
I'll be back.

Monday, July 07, 2003

The Worlds Dullest Blog
Fascinating (and: it is...)

Verdens Kedeligste Blog
Utroligt! (og: det er den...)
Dobbel tænkning
Jeg har besluttet mig for at skrive paa dansk Lennard: hvad med de horder af international læsere der tørster efter dine insigtsfulde kommentarer og vittige bemærkninger?!?!?
Jeg hører frustrationen, jeg føler smerten, og siger saaledes:

Double Thinking
I've decided to go back to writing in danish.. but Lennard, what about the scores of international readers craving your insightfull comments and witty remarks?!?!
I hear the frustration, I sense the pain - and sayeth:
I did a Google search on "Don't ask me I only work here" and this came up: quite funny

Saturday, July 05, 2003

You don't have to be black to be a nigger.
Guess I found out why most people ignore me when I go to gallery openings.
It's not really personal; it's because I'm the tech guy. When the show opens the artists are transformed into fluttering art-stars, and the last thing they want to remember is some techie who for a while held their fate in his trembling hands because he was the only one who could put their video onto tape, while they were busy cracking up on nerves and working the cell phone. When the show opens such trifle matters are no longer important, including the people associated with them. It's nothing personal.

Thursday, July 03, 2003

The biggest scam.
Recently it occurred to me that about 2/3´rds of the time spend doing anything involving computers are spend dealing with interruptions created by the computer or it's software; malfunctions, requests for login and passwords, program crashes, loss of data that has to be re created, etc. After more than ten years of working with computers I'm considered a "super user" - another of this cultures ridiculous cartoon words - and still I have to deal with these problems on a daily basis.
The revolution will not be televised - because it never happened.

Monday, June 30, 2003

Sue who?
Going through my daily newspaper's reviews of the concerts at this years Roskilde-Festival there's no mentioning of the Suicide concert. It's debateable, but; I believe electronic music is the only innovative musical art form at the moment, and for many years to come. Two of this art forms few truly groundbreaking artists, equal to the importance of Brian Eno, J.M.Jarre and Kraftwerk, play live in Denmark - and get no reviews?!!?!
Probably the space was needed for an in-dept article about Lars Von Triers dog...
Ponder that while you take a look at Suicide's own website:

Saturday, June 28, 2003

Top of the line.
After a stressful beginning my excursion to the Roskilde-Festival finally began to pay off . For starters I had NO sleep the night between Thursday and Friday, not because I'm a hardcore party-animal, but because my tent is next to some who are, the ghetto blasters, blasting out the music of Offspring and the like, stopped at around 6 AM...On top of that my tent was so cold I simply couldn’t sleep.
Accepting my defeat in the face of the camping and Rock and Roll lifestyle I decided to go back to my flat in Copenhagen and get some sleep and decent food.
Returning later in the evening I shared a beer with our well-known friend Uffe and prepared myself for the upcoming concerts with Squarepusher and Suicide.
Squarepusher took the stage first, demonstrating his considerable skills as a 12-string bass player (and he uses the Sony VAIO on the 'puter side!) Still he respectfully paid homage to The Ancient Traditions of Nerd-dom by hiding behind two racks packed with electronics. A brilliant performance.
After that, about an hour and a half was wasted in the company of the somewhat tiresome rapper Mike Ladd, before the stage was set for legendary electronica pioneers Suicide. Entering the stage completely clad in black they made a powerful impression with Alan Vega patrolling the edge of the stage looking like Manuel Noriega on a really bad day, and Martin Rev slapping his keyboard around with a menacing grin, and the whole spectacle backed by some of the grittiest beat loops in electronic music creating Suicide's unique brand of hypnotic pulse.

Thursday, June 26, 2003

Off to the Yasgur farm...
in a few hours I’ll be taking off to this years Roskilde-Festival.

Hmmmm... I went there Monday to put up my newly acquired tent, which was the archetypical Roskilde experience: a looooooong journey to a remote part of the camping grounds where I finally managed to find a vacant spot for my tent. All of this under heavy rain clouds and irritating strong winds - of course! Believe it or not, but ten minutes after the tent was up and I was busy pumping up my inflatable - mattress...It started to rain with an almost explosive vigour. I waited for about an hour and a half in the secure comfort of my genuinely waterproof tent, realising that it is exactly twenty years ago (1983) that I went to my first Roskilde-Festival...
This year I go mainly to hear American techno grandfathers Suicide, and I have very little knowledge of many of the other bands, and back then I went to hear Siouxie and The Banshees (and had very little knowledge of many of the other bands)
well... I can feel a slight fever and sore throat building up too...
Roskilde - here I come!

Wednesday, June 25, 2003

George Orwell 1903 - 1950
Today would have been George Orwell's 100'Th birthday. A graduate from Eton College and with a service career in both the British police in Burma and the Republican army during the Spanish Civil War, Orwell had seen both the left and right wing systems of oppression. Experiencing the seedy side of urban life as a down and out in 1920' s London and Paris, he would write about it in the aptly titled "Down and out" (1933). Later in life he worked as a shopkeeper, which he stated taught him how to run a business.
Probably most famous for the books "Animal Farm" and "1984”, Orwell fought a lifelong battle against totalitarianism and the way these systems oppress through revision of history and manipulation of the language (the famous "newspeak" from "1984" is said to have been inspired by his work for the BBC in wartime Britain)
Defining himself as a socialist in the 1930’s, he began to see Stalinist Communism and it's constant purges of anyone with "dissident" thoughts as perhaps an even worse threat to humanity than fascism and Nazism. He ended up fighting the communists in Spain and had to flee for his life.
"1984" is often quoted as an attack on the Communist state, or the state in general, but much of the inspiration came from living in London during World War II - the (V1 and V2) rocket attacks, the low grade clothing and food, the endless war going on somewhere far away (as the British wars in Asia and Africa) and if you see posters of Winston Churchill during that period you realise that he also formed part of the inspiration for "Big Brother".
Written in 1948, “1984” should be required reading for anyone living in the corporate media and information society of today where – once again- "war is peace".

Monday, June 23, 2003

Meet the doc.
Some might have read my complaints over at NSOP about the € 2.000 I have saved up in some stupid pension (which I can't get to until I reach the tender age of sixty) About one month ago I wanted to reopen that same pension, start paying a monthly submission etc, etc. This however turned out to be too expensive as I have back taxes to pay next year, but before I got that far I had to fill in a form. I t turns out that this pension is also an insurance and that meant I had to inform them if I'd ever had any mental diseases, or back problems.
As I actually saw a psychoanalyst for about eighteen months a few years back, and had back problems two years ago, I of course answered "yes" - honest dumb-assed hayseed me -and even wrote the names of the professionals I had consulted. This prompted the good people of the pension to demand further information and they mailed me an extra form to fill out. In the meantime I decided not to have the payments reopened and informed the pensions fund of this.I expected the whole thing to be forgotten, but last week I got a letter informing me that due to my experience with mental problems I was to see the pensions funds own psychiatrist - some Dr. John. D. Chemicalindustries - for a consultation. Remember kids: if you insure people you better be damn sure there's never going to be anything wrong with them, if there is, YOU MIGHT LOOSE MONEY!!!
I wonder what had happened if I'd checked the "yes" box next to:"do you use drugs"...

Saturday, June 21, 2003

Only for ås in dø dænish lingua:
Nogle vil måske huske goe' gamle Skodborg bloggen "Born in the Sixties"
Desværre faldt aktiviteten jo hurtigt til 0,- men Esben har holdt den i live (bla. med et design der er lige i 80'ernes betændte neon-øje) og den er at finde på:
Her kan man nu læse et dicght jeg har skrevet.

Friday, June 20, 2003

He can always put you in that cocktail lounge mood: Dean Martin Fan Center
(Pst: anyone know if the TV-shows are available on video?)
Human sculpture.
in a sense the Internet is a human sculpture, made entirely up by human contributions since it has no solid structures. But of course that's debatable as the Internet's physical existence is data stored on hard drives installed in computers, which again are placed in buildings. However as the Internet is made up from information and this information constantly changes with the activities of the users, it's these users who are the Internet.

Wednesday, June 18, 2003

Today is Poul McCartney's (61'st) birthday.
Today’s fashion is to compare McCartney unfavourably to John Lennon, but "the cute one" was one of the best bass players in rock, says I.
Tongue make up.
Late 21'st century boys and girls will enjoy the fun of applying make up to their tongues. Oblates with a wide variety of patterns and images can be bought at most shops selling cosmetics. By sucking on the oblate the patterns or images are applied to the tongue and will stay there for at least twenty-four hours. Contemporary pop and movie stars and heroes of the wars are the most popular images but also political slogans and the latest craze of "rarely used words".
Fluorescent versions that glow in the dark are highly popular with young trendsetters who navigate the parties and bars of the nightlife. Prostitutes and drug dealers can deliver information to potential customers by a brief display of a "tongue message" for instance the price and type of services or products.
Stay tuned for "invisible" make up - only visible with the aid of infrared contact lenses.

Tuesday, June 17, 2003

Greetings viewers!
As you might have noticed, this blog now has a "comments"-function - cool for dropping those pats on the back and insightfull observations.
As the MP said to the dominatrix : make it hurt - but don't leave marks.
Damn fine modeling...
Miko Bayerl's PAK-wagen

Sunday, June 15, 2003

Greetings Earthly men!
I’m afraid this is my last message to you, The Infinite Entity (the ruler of my planet- in fact the whole galaxy I come from) has ordered me to return to my world and make a report. Too bad really because Jorgen (the headmaster) announced today that he was planning to move the entire high school, students, teachers, and all to Colombia and start a farming experiment.
I said goodbye to my “roomie” Knud this morning who performed what I believe is an ancient goodbye ritual here in this world: the throwing of bottles and display of the finger.
Well - goodbye Earthmen! You have many funny things in your world, but the best was actually the porcelain drinking fountains you have put all over the place – so good when you are often thirsty like I am (and what a great idea to have them in separate rooms so you can drink all you want without interruption)
Peace and Love from Pzilon - man of the beyond! - or as we would say on my planet: "to sneeze is messy for those without noses"

Saturday, June 14, 2003

Chillary Clinch-ton for President
- and from now on we want TUNA in those burgers!
Greetings Earthmen!
Yesterday was a most enlightening day! I don’t think I have ever learned so much since I spent a whole day in an Intencitron™ learning The New Corrections to The Common Past™. But that’s not how they do it here on earth No, sir Bubba! here they do learning by doing and lots and lots of social experiment. For instance: at Jorgen (the headmaster)´s house there are more than ten separate rooms devoted exclusively to social experiments, and Mette, the girl I met when I first got here, says she and the other students who are “special assistants” to Jorgen (the headmaster) often go and do social experiments all night. Unfortunately, due to something called “The Big Rule” only girls can be “special assistants” – oh yes! that’s another thing I have learned: “boys” and “girls” – they are just like other earthmen, but they are not the same! For instance: boys do a lot of smoking of the tobacco-that-smell-like-animal-transporters, they sleep most of the time, and don’t really have to do this “manual work”. Because of “The Big Rule” boys can't be a part of the social experiments, so when they are awake they either play the-funny-game-with the-round –leather-object-that-generates-shouting or they watch other boys play it on a rather primitive version of the Visitron™. Now, the funny thing is that the girls are completely different! – they are awake most of the time, do lot’s of manual work and social experiments, and they are all friends of someone named Carrie Rear whom they talk about a lot. But that’s not the only difference! I also discovered that earthmen don’t use Energytrons™ - instead they “eat” and even here there are differences between the boys and the girls. The boys eat mainly cardboard-products and mostly the red and yellow disc-shaped cardboard or the yellow cardboard-sticks.The girls however are much more like my people, they even have the same tradition we use when we commemorate the fallen on Independence Day - they eat a huge amount of food and then throw it all up!
I have to stop my writing now, we have a big meeting at the high school and all students and teachers are to show up, they say Jorgen (the headmaster) has an important announcement.

Friday, June 13, 2003

Greetings Earthmen!
I'm afraid I won't be writing much today. All us students at Sandbækgårdsholmsvejens Kultur-Højskole are going to spend all day doing an exciting social experiment. Jorgen (the headmaster) has invited us all to stay at his home, just a few hundred meters from the school, and here we will try out working closely in groups and experimenting with our manual work capabilities. Jorgen (the headmaster) has kindly offered his own bathroom as a testing ground for this experiment (and he also supplied some tiles)
I am so excited about this day where I will get to know even more people besides Mette and Knud. Knud is also excited and says he hasn't really done any manual work since jail, but here there's at least a chance to look at some cute butts.
See you tomorrow!
Greetings Earthmen!
I've had a most fortunate luck today! not only have I been sent to Store Sandbækgårdsholmsvejens Kultur-Højskole to study the culture, history, and traditions of this planet, I have also met many new people. But the best is my incredible luck! An earthman-friend has suggested I get therapy and what does you know -- my roomie here at the Danish High school is a Therapist ! Isnt that true Knud?
You know you talk kinda funny, are you Swedish?..err…well, I don' know what's going on here right now..err… but it's true I used to work as a therapist, well I used to do lots’ a things, but, erryou know Im more of aerr, freelance-psilosopher you could say, now. er, at the present time that is, at least…err.
Knud has promised to give me some free therapy if I take his turn at the dishwashing and he also borrowed me some beer crates I can make a bed with, what a "guttermand" as they say here at the high school, but now I must stop my writing and get ready for this evenings film-class: we're studying the narrative structures in contemporary German cinema and will be watching "Schwanzi" Holtzbeins "Schoolgirl Frolics pt.III" - see you again tomorrow.
Greetings Earthmen!
I am now on my way to Store Sandbækgårdsholmsvejens Kultur-Højskole where I will learn about the culture, history and traditions of this planet!

Greetings Danish High School! I am Pzilon man from…
Yes, I know that from the Police, I am Jorgen Svind (the headmaster) and I’m very busy at the moment so I’ve arranged for one of the students to show you around the old place:
Hi Pzilon, my name is Mette, let’s get started shall we!
I am Pzilon man....well...
you talk funny, are you from Copenhagen? Well, the rules are quite simple here: no drinking in the dormitories or in the park, only in your room or another students room, If you want to attend classes please inform the teachers a few days in advance so they have time to prepare themselves, please supply a list of the medication you use to Jorgen (the headmaster) within the first week, and remember that Jorgen (the headmaster) advice limiting back talking to no more that two hours per individual per day.
Hubba, Hubba!
Well Jorgen (the headmaster) has managed to make the school part of the new Danish cultural renewal programme called Morning Dew so we’re running a tight ship here now!
Good gully miss Molly!
Er, yes… I will take you to your room now Pzilon, we’ve set you up with Knud, he's a darling person, one of the older students here at the school.

Knud? Hello Knu-uuud!, are you up yet?
Well, I guess he had a rough night, but you can just go and settle in, unpack and all that, see you at dinner five o’clock, right? Bye bye Pzilon.